Bored With Puns
by Order of the Aether
Summary: With Pietro still in recovery, the Maximoff twins have to find ways to amuse themselves. Pietro (accidentally) sets out on a quest to make the Avengers' lives just a teeny bit brighter. Two-shot, set post-AoU. Usual AU, no slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welp, I'm back! How are you all doing? It's been a while since I've written for Avengers and not Captain America...eh, negligible. Today, to explore the minds of the Maximoffs (plus my boy Bucky because reasons), and have a little angst and goofing off, because I can't seem to avoid either of those. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer (ish): The puns in this fic have been borrowed from various sources and all belong to their respective owners, whatever that means. All "Sokovian" is Slovak, courtesy of Google Translate, and thus has no guarantee of accuracy. But the translation for _pustý teoretik_ is pretty funny.**

* * *

 **Bored With Puns: Part One**

"Wanda...!" Pietro complained—well, whined. Complaining would be to put it nicely. The speedster sank into the plush cushions and mattress of the Avengers' Tower med bay bed, deliberately drawing out the last 'a' in his sister's name.

"What?" she asked, looking up from where she sat reading beside his bed.

"I'm bored," he declared for the umpteenth time that day.

Wanda tried not to let her sigh sound too harsh. She couldn't very well blame Pietro for wanting to get some exercise, but this was getting ridiculous. He'd been on strict bedrest since his recovery only a few days ago and had been pining to get moving since then.

It had gotten to the point that his efforts caught the attention of the grave voice in the ceiling named JARVIS, who had very firmly (but politely) insisted that Mr. Maximoff stay in bed or Captain Rogers would need to be fetched.

Pietro had tried nothing since then. But that didn't mean he couldn't antagonize his sister.

"The tablet," said Wanda, trying very hard to be patient as she nodded at the small device by his right hand.

"What, this?" Pietro picked it up lazily, but Wanda could see even then a caution that meant he dared not smudge or scratch it.

She couldn't blame him. It'd been a gift from Mr. Stark...

The thought had made her head spin, and she'd expected—at first—for it to blow up or cause some other mischief. But it had not. A short tutorial had revealed that the tablet was already programmed with a handful of games.

Well, she'd take up that conversation with Captain Rogers later. Or maybe the archer...Clint.

"It has games, yes?" she continued, putting away her thoughts for later.

"Does," replied Pietro, dropping it from his fingers—in a way that it would land harmlessly flat on the mattress. "I tried them all."

"Candy Crush?" she asked, racking her brain for the names she'd seen maybe once.

"Tried it."

"Birds...Angry Birds?"

"Tried it."

"Temple Run?"

"Wasn't fast enough," he snarked with a shadow of his old cocky grin.

 _Samozrejme_ , thought Wanda, but even as she rolled her eyes a smile slipped past her lips.

"Still bored," complained Pietro, dropping his head back into the pillow. "Ow."

Wanda shook her head. "Enough of games," she scolded him, trying her best at a motherly tone. She stuck her copy of Little Women slightly in his face. "Read a book."

"I have read all the books!" protested Pietro, batting it aside. "Or tried. They are all in English."

"So?" she retorted, swallowing her quiet desire to agree with his sentiment as she settled it back into her lap. "Our home will be here now. You should learn."

Pietro made a long sputtering sound with his lips. "English has too many words. There are so many words that no one uses but books! How do you understand it all?" he demanded, sitting up a bit.

Wanda looked up at him, then back at the labyrinth of words on the pages in front of her. "I understand some of it," she answered quietly.

Blessedly, Pietro sailed right by and declared, "Not good enough for me! If I don't understand the whole thing, the book is no good. Comics are fine, though," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Then read a comic book to me," suggested Wanda, folding her own reading (which, she had to admit, really was a bit of a drag) in her lap. "It will go slower."

"And I will be more bored." Pietro slouched in the pillow until his chin almost hit his chest.

Wanda gave in and rolled her eyes.

Pietro opened his mouth again, and Wanda was just about to brace herself for another round of verbal marathoning—not that it was truly annoying, she reminded herself, at least Pietro was alive—when there was a knock on the door. Both twins straightened a little bit.

 _Who could it be._..? Wanda snuck a glance at Pietro's curious face and called, "Come in!"

It could be Clint Barton. Or the Black Widow—Natasha. She'd strangely taken an interest in the twins since their arrival. Or the young android, Vision, who as much answered Wanda's questions as he asked his own.

And—well, the two had made one more friend since they'd arrived in America.

"Dobrý deň, maličkí," Bucky Barnes greeted softly, poking his head inside the door, but his face still wore the signature smirk.

Wanda beamed and was about to answer when Pietro shot up and enthused, "Bratku!" and threw his hands out toward the newcomer. "My saving has come!"

Wanda held down a laugh. She wouldn't correct him. At least he wasn't complaining. "Dobrý deň, Bucky," she replied, on behalf of herself and her brother.

The brunette grinned and stepped inside the door, holding up a small brown bag. "I brought food," he offered.

"That's what I said," Pietro replied.

This time, Wanda did laugh.

Bucky stuck the fingers of his right hand into Pietro's hair and ruffled it up as he passed. As Pietro howled his protests and tried to fix his hair, Wanda did her best not to stare at the shiny left hand that Bucky always kept at his side or carefully in his pocket.

She'd heard the ghost stories, connected the evidence and his own experiences. _The Fist of HYDRA_...every one of Strucker's 'volunteers' had both feared and aspired to be him. But the man he really was was far too gentle, far too kind, to really be anything but a shadow of what the stories had told.

Nowadays, it only made her angry to think about it.

Bucky had swung another chair around and planted it by the bed, kicking one foot up on the mattress. The movement struck Wanda as something signature to Clint Barton, and it made her surprised.

"First one," he said, handing a sandwich to Pietro, and the thought vanished.

Pietro took the proffered gift eagerly, but his face took on almost a childish awe at the statement. "You have how many?" he asked, voice faraway and hungry.

"Don' start drooling," scolded Bucky, whacking him on the back of the head. "Eat that first, and you'll get the next one."

Wanda laughed, vaguely satisfied to see someone other than her whack Pietro on the head in play.

Pietro began to wolf down his food. Bucky opened his mouth, but Wanda's sister senses were quicker and she'd already told Pietro to slow down.

"Done," grinned Pietro, licking his fingers in no time at all.

"Cho's gonna kill me if this gives you indigestion," grumbled Bucky, but he handed Pietro another sandwich just the same, and it was similarly devoured.

"Who says my digestion does not go fast?" retorted Pietro around another mouthful.

"Swallow before you talk," cried Wanda, both mortified and amused. "Honestly...why do you always eat?"

"Because I can," retorted Pietro, and he met her eyes with a look of complete seriousness.

That was so true, compared to their experience in the HYRDA compound, that Wanda didn't have the heart to reply to it.

Almost as if he sensed the awkwardness, Bucky slouched in his chair and drawled, "Hey, if you think I'm gonna let someone with metabolism like mine and Steve's go without a bite when he needs it, you've got another thing coming. That's practically torture."

"It is!" agreed Pietro, nodding furiously. "I am always very hungry." And as if for emphasis, he tore another chunk out of his sandwich.

"You still have manners," Wanda sighed, but the tense atmosphere was gone and she smiled just the same.

"Hey, at least we can call you Snacksimoff," Bucky remarked, swiping his hand through Pietro's hair before the other young man could defend against it.

Wanda started to laugh, and it caught in her throat and turned into a snort. Bucky's grin got wider.

Pietro's petulant glare arrested Bucky's attention and saved his sister from any more embarrassment. "I read a book of puns," remarked Pietro after he'd gotten his feathers down the right way.

"Oh, so you did read?" put in Wanda before she could stop herself. _Oops. Oh well, this will be fun_.

Ruffled up again, Pietro shot her the glare. "Nie som žiadny pustý teoretik ako ty, sestra."

"Whoa, easy," Bucky protested, earning a snort from Pietro.

"He could do worse," said Wanda, trying to hide a smirk. Not that he would, but...

"I _could_ do worse!" declared Pietro, sitting up with all the pride of his swearing prowess.

"Puns!" cried Bucky, making it obvious in his attempt to rein the conversation back. "I didn't ask about Sokovian insults. Bet'cha can't make English puns."

"Can! Puns are easy," retorted Pietro.

Bucky sat back, looking satisfied with himself, as Pietro plowed on and Wanda let herself smile and watch the show.

"See—" Pietro paused for a second to think. "Tony Stark is being sarcastic. What is it?"

"Tuesday." Bucky sounded bored.

"No!" Riled up now, Pietro declared, "Tony Snark."

Wanda groaned. Bucky gave a far-off look and slowly grinned.

"Okay," he began, folding his arms. "Black Widow has a cold." He waved broadly in front of himself, inviting them to interject.

Both twins stared and shared a blank glance. Wanda was at a loss for where this was going, and Pietro looked the same.

Bucky sat patiently. "Natasha Romacough," he said, as if it was obvious.

Pietro doubled over laughing, falling back onto his pillows. Wanda held back a snicker.

"She would kill you if she heard that," she warned playfully.

"Nah," Bucky drawled with a grin in her direction. "She likes me too much."

After recovering from his fit of laughter, Pietro sat back up again. "Captain America is not cooked!" he blurted.

Bucky's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. Wanda, who'd seen how close the two men were, bit her lip and waited for Pietro to deliver his joke.

"Steve Raw-gers."

Bucky's face blanked. Wanda was almost disappointed.

Then the brunette doubled over in a gale of laughter for the first time since he'd walked through the door, and Wanda was ready to sing for triumph.

Pietro, by this time, was nearly vibrating with glee over this victory. "Iron Man is a bird," he blurted out over any other voice. "Tony Stork!"

"Iron Man is a pasta," Bucky shot back as soon as he could breathe. "Macaroni Stark."

"And I have a wonderful twin sister!" crowed Pietro, waving broadly in her direction.

Wanda was speechless but smiling, unsure where a compliment like that had come from. And then, to her disappointment and slight embarrassment, she realized he'd said 'Wanda-ful'.

"That is a pun on my name, isn't it?" she asked flatly.

Pietro roared in laughter until he choked and gripped his middle. "Ow."

Bucky looked worried for a second, but when Pietro made a face that was too exaggerated to be of actual pain, Bucky just started to snicker.

Wanda shook her head and got up to leave the room. She was getting hungry herself, and didn't want sandwiches. "Continue," she said. "I am going."

"Wait! Don't Wanda away," pleaded Pietro, stretching his arms toward her. "I want to go outside and see the wandaful sky and the wandaful birds and breathe the wandaful air!"

"Oh god," muttered Bucky, massaging his forehead as Pietro cackled.

"Okay," Wanda challenged with a fire in her eye, turning around to face her brother down. "If you like puns so much, make a pun on Vision's name."

The boys shared a look.

"Nope," Bucky said immediately. Pietro opened his mouth and then shut it, looking defeated.

 _Children_ , Wanda thought, and was about to walk away.

But then, Pietro started to smile. "Okay," he said. "We can watch movies on him."

"What? Oh no." Wanda turned around and started walking as if it'd dull the sound.

"Tele-Vision!" he shouted over her shoulder.

She had a feeling this wasn't stopping any time soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for being patient, you guys! As my thanks, have a slightly longer chapter than the last and a few special cameos at the end (and you'll see why this was a bear to write). Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Bored With Puns: Part Two**

Pietro had decided that Wanda needed more reasons to smile.

Sure, her _face_ smiled pretty often, and it seemed to satisfy everybody else. But he was her brother. He knew her, and he knew when she wasn't smiling for real. That, and he'd been a bit of a worrier ever since he realized that she had to live through him dying, so maybe he was watching her a bit too closely. Still.

She'd laughed so much when he and Bucky were messing around that Pietro had decided that he had to keep it up. And annoying her was almost as much fun as hearing her laughter, so with puns (English puns, at that!) he strove for both.

Becoming friends with the Avengers in the process was kind of an accident, but he'd be happy to pretend he meant to do it.

Just like he'd be happy to pretend he meant to make the couches by the bar on the Common Floor into his own unofficial kingdom. Actually, when she finally let him out of bed, the doctor—Cho, was it?—had told him to stay there for a while because he could sit and didn't have to walk far to get food or use the bathroom. It had annoyed him. But when the rest of the Avengers started to show up at their own times, always giving him someone to talk to, he'd started to like it.

Best of the best, he was never at a loss for new material.

There was one day that Captain Rogers walked out of the elevator with a basket of clothes and pillowcases in his arms. Natalia Romanova—the rest called her Nat, but it was easier to say the Russian name—had already come to the Floor some time ago, and she and the twins looked up when he approached.

Pietro hollered something like a greeting, waving a soda in the air to welcome—Steve, right?—into the kingdom, even though he was kind of confused why he had the basket. Steve greeted them back and smiled.

Natalia didn't look confused to see him. "Still not working?" she asked and put down her tablet.

"Nope," answered Steve, stopping within a few yards of the couches and putting the basket on his hip. "I think it died sometime last week."

"What died?" asked Wanda, sitting up with concern. Pietro felt his eyebrows tug towards each other.

Steve looked like he had to swallow a chuckle, and then Pietro was more confused.

Natalia was actually helpful and answered, "That's slang. It means something stopped working. We're talking about the washing machine on his floor."

"Oh," said Wanda, relaxing a bit. She looked like she was thinking it over. "That does make sense."

"It was acting up before we left for Europe," Natalia explained. "I thought it would have been worked out by now."

Pietro swallowed a swig of soda and spoke up, "I thought all that Stark owns is new, yes? How could the machine break?"

"I have no idea," Steve shrugged.

Natalia gave him a look and deadpanned, "No chance Tony could have rigged it just to mess with the guy from the forties?"

Pietro had to snort and grin. Somehow the picture of the rich, genius superhero messing up a washing machine wasn't hard to imagine.

"He would not," said Wanda.

"That sounds more like Barton," Steve agreed, somehow managing to keep a straight face. "And I've tried to fix it already; all of the components are in order, they're just not working." He sounded rather proud to know that.

"Did Bucky help?" Wanda asked innocently.

The smile disappeared. "He helped in reverse," grumbled Steve.

That sent both of the twins laughing, Pietro with a picture in his mind of the brown-haired man hovering over Steve's shoulder and offering unhelpful suggestions.

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "Well, anyway, it's not working. I thought I'd borrow the machine down here."

"No problem," replied Natalia, waving him on with a smile. She picked up her tablet again and the little tag that read 'property of Natasha Romanoff' swung into view.

Something in Pietro's brain clicked into place at a speed to match his own.

"No, no, no, wait," exclaimed Pietro, waving at Steve with a wild spark in his eyes. "Let Natalia do it!"

Natalia quirked an eyebrow and hid a smile behind her tablet.

 _Pietro, don't,_ Wanda hissed over their mind link. She shot him a glare.

 _Can't stop me!_ he shot back, grinning.

Steve took the bait. "Okay. Why?"

Pietro couldn't contain himself. "Washa Romanoff." The grin exploded into laughter and he fell into Wanda's lap.

Wanda groaned and thumped her head on the top of the couch. _You had to,_ she sent to him.

 _Yes, I did._

A smile tugged at her mouth and she couldn't stop it.

Steve and Natalia were looking at each other and seemed like they'd very much like to say, "oh, brother," but Steve looked closer to laughing.

A sharp sting shot through Pietro's left side. "Ow!" he cried, gripping the spot. His tight muscles complained unhappily. "Pulled something," he groaned.

* * *

 _The following evening..._

"Are you an artist?"

"No," Clint Barton answered Pietro, looking up quizzically from his microwave dinner. The Old Man had made a bad mistake of choosing to make food and eat on the Common Floor. Pietro had twenty minutes or more to think of jokes.

"Too bad," grinned Pietro. "Could be Smock-Guy."

Wanda looked up from practicing guitar and swiped a pillow off the couch to throw at him. Ducking would have hurt Pietro's wounds, so he just let it hit his face and interrupt his laughter.

Clint groaned and put his head between his hands. "Natasha, make him stop!" he half-whined.

Natalia sat, quietly stirring her tea. "I can't restrain an injured man, Barton."

"But he's already called me Sockeye and Frock-eye, and now this," Clint stormed on. "How do you even _know_ what a frock is?" he asked, whirling on Pietro.

"I read a book," retorted Pietro, not wiping off the grin.

Wanda gave a motherly smile and leaned over to pat Pietro's hand. "I'm sorry. I take back throwing the pillow at you."

"And he also called me Barnton," grumbled Clint. When Natalia raised an eyebrow he growled, "Barn. Because I'm a farmer."

If this amused Natalia, she didn't show it. She simply raised her cup to her lips and took a sip. "I refuse to restrain a man until he can put up a fight," she replied.

"I take essence to that statement!" cried Pietro.

"Offense," Wanda corrected him.

"Whatever."

Wanda scolded his apathy towards proper English in many annoyed Sokovian words until he almost couldn't hear Natalia saying quietly, "You have two young kids. You know he's just doing it for attention."

"Yeah," chortled Clint, grinning. "But it's too good let go."

* * *

 _Saturday morning, two weeks later..._

"Still thinking about other jobs?" asked Pietro. He slid up behind the leather couch and folded his arms over the top, next to a head with long brown hair. He'd finally gotten strong enough to walk around a bit, thought he stayed close to furniture for support.

"Yup," Bucky Barnes answered shortly, not looking up from slaving over his tablet. Specks of sunlight reflected off of the tablet's camera and the corners of its screen.

Pietro relaxed on the couch's leather. He took the whole concept of other jobs lightly, to be honest—he couldn't imagine Bucky as anything but the Winter Soldier.

Hoping Wanda was listening from where she sat eating breakfast with a handful of the other Tower residents, Pietro kept a straight face and remarked, "Better not choose carpenter."

Bucky's fingers slowed, and his head pivoted on his neck to fix a stony glare on Pietro that would have sent anyone with more sense and less backbone running.

Pietro couldn't help but notice the conversation over the breakfast table hit a lull.

"Do I want to know—?" Bucky asked slowly.

"Splinter Soldier."

With that, the tablet hit the couch as Bucky stood and threw his arms in the air before storming towards the elevator. Pietro nearly collapsed in laughter and had to grip the couch for support.

Wanda facepalmed, and the other Avengers with her traded grins and hid them behind drinks.

* * *

 _Tuesday afternoon..._

"Decided to join the land of the living?" asked the Old Man, sounding surprised, as he stepped out of the elevator to find Tony Stark on the Common Floor.

"Everybody seems to forget that this is my tower," Stark remarked in something like a reply, thought he didn't seem to be talking to anyone in particular. He waved his arms widely. "The whole thing! Mine. So why is everyone surprised when they see me around here? Am I some gypsy?"

With his "Captain face" on, Steve looked like he sensed an argument and opened his mouth, but Natalia beat him to it. "You're both glad to see each other, boys, so stop pretending," she scolded.

"What, him?" asked Stark, jabbing a thumb at Barton.

"This guy?" shot back the Old Man, treating him the same.

The two men looked at each other and smirked after that.

Wanda, meanwhile, had rubbed her shoulder just the slightest bit against Pietro's arm when she saw Mr. Stark. _It's true that we're surprised, but he hardly comes out of his lab,_ said her voice in Pietro's mind. _I'm not sure I'm glad he's here._

"Sorry if we're surprised," spoke up Pietro, and immediately he was sorry he did it so loudly. But he had a bad habit of talking more when he said something he shouldn't and so plowed on, "But between the suit and the basement lab, we do not see your face very much. Unusual, I guess, yes? I have lots of puns on you, but you've not here for them. It's all too bad."

A muscle in Mr. Stark's jaw tightened as he turned to look at Pietro. Even though the older man was quite a bit shorter, Pietro found himself trying to straighten up, as best as the thick bandages would let him.

 _Pietro, no_ , whispered Wanda in his mind, and it took the fighting edge out of him.

Silence held the air like a tight string. Even after they'd had it out about the bomb, talking had not been easy between the twins and Stark. Most of the older Avengers looked ready to jump in and stop any argument that would happen.

Mr. Stark turned away, seeming to think it over. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" he asked, carefully controlled. "Speed-tro?"

And just like that, the tight string snapped, but Pietro was only stunned and not angry like he expected. He spluttered, trying to think of one of his jokes to come back.

Stark jumped in. "Slacksimoff," he said with a straight face.

"St-arc reactor!" Pietro cried, his voice rising.

"Slowkovian!" the man shot back.

Pietro fired off his puns rapid-fire, interrupted by Mr. Stark barking out his own, and the other Avengers just watched. Wanda sighed and sank onto one of the couches, smiling.

Four minutes in, looking from one man to the other, a perfectly solemn but curious Vision asked, "What hath we wrought?"

* * *

 _Four weeks afterward..._

Pietro was surprised to see such a gathering already on the Common Floor when he and Wanda stepped out of the elevator. In the center of the conversation was a black man with a wide smile, talking with ease to anyone who greeted him.

"Who is that?" asked Wanda aloud, enough to get the attention of the supersoldier on the edge of the group.

"You might know him as Falcon," explained Steve, stepping out of the circle towards them. "He's fought on our side before."

"Steve!" called the new man, and with that, the captain melted back into the group.

Pietro grinned, not about to pass up a chance to come up with new puns (and possibly annoy someone new). Grabbing Bucky, who hung back at the edge of the group, he hoarsely whispered, "What's his name?"

"Sam," Bucky replied with a smug grin, and didn't say anything that could be of any more help.

Pietro's face fell.

After thinking it over for an intense few seconds so that he almost drowned out the conversation around him, Pietro cried, "I can't _do_ anything with 'Sam'!" and threw his arms up in the air to stalk off to the bar and get a soda.

The other Avengers stared after him, suddenly quiet. Pietro sullenly pretended not to notice when the newcomer turned to Steve with a "please explain" look and asked, "What...?"

"He gets frustrated when he can't afflict you with puns," Natalia supplied flatly, and that was the end of that.

* * *

 _That evening, 8:47 PM..._

Night fell over the Manhattan skyline, turning the city into a constellation of lights to give the Common Floor's sitting room a dim glow. Sam Wilson had stayed for some time, and the man named Colonel Rhodes had arrived at Mr. Stark's invitation right as night had come. Pietro continued to overhear small snatches of talk from the bar about a new building arrangement for the Avengers' HQ.

But he was not too concerned with that right now, and instead focused on the trick of playing this game called "pool" that Steve was so good at. (He was half sure that Wanda cheated with her powers to make the balls roll into the corner baskets.)

Every corner of the room had some small group of the teammates talking about one thing or another. Pietro had gotten used to the humming, overlapping voices. That was why he was so surprised when they all began to hush, and JARVIS even turned down the jazz from the bar speakers.

Pietro looked up to see all the Avengers looking towards the elevator.

"Oh," said a small man there with curled, black hair and round glasses. He seemed nervous, his hands constantly moving and his eyes darting to one side or another. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—I didn't think you'd all be here."

"Bruce," someone whispered. Natalia stood up from her seat slowly. All around her were faces that looked different kinds of surprised, longing, and sad.

"I'll just..." the small man was saying. "I can just go. If I need to talk to someone about...but that can wait. You can go on with your night, I didn't mean to barge in—"

Natalia had already strode across the room when he wasn't looking, her red hair looking redder in the indoor light, and before he could finish she wrapped her arms around him. He didn't move, but he didn't push her off when she put her head on his shoulder.

Wanda quietly appeared beside Pietro, her hand on his arm.

 _What's going on?_ he asked her, although he felt he kind of knew.

 _I don't know,_ she answered, but he could feel that she felt sad. _They missed one another. I don't have to look into their minds, I can feel it. Everyone here missed him._

Natalia had given him a long hug, and still had not moved. "I'm sorry," she whispered from somewhere in her hair.

He put his hands on her back, very carefully as if he was afraid he'd break her. "No," he answered, his voice clogged with some emotion. "I am."

At this, a few other figures in the room moved, and some of the Avengers smiled sadly at one another and stood up. Vision watched, his eyes quiet and watchful and just a bit confused, but glided over when the rest of the men approached Bruce.

Only Sam and the Colonel hung back, talking so that Pietro couldn't hear. When Wanda looked at him with a question in her eyes, Pietro shrugged and stayed put.

 _Let them have their hellos,_ he sent to her.

So far, they had. The Old Man just smirked and greeted him with, "Banner."

"Barton," he'd replied, tugging on his glasses.

"Welcome back, Bruce," said Steve, putting his hand forward and his best captain smile on, even if it was tinged with sadness.

"Thanks." Bruce shook the hand hesitantly. "I'm not here...you know, forever, I won't cause you guys that much trouble. Just wanted to come for a visit, and then I'm going to lay low."

Most of those around him had looked upset by the first sentence. Bucky, hanging back by the edge of the circle, spoke up, "Can we know where you're going this time?"

The rest of the group looked at him, and Bucky somehow smiled in a way that looked sad and angry and apologizing all at once. "Please," he added.

"I...I don't..." Bruce looked around at all the faces in the circle for a moment, and then let down his arms. "All right." But he smiled, and somehow seemed less tired.

Pietro felt Wanda grip his arm, and when he looked she smiled brightly at him.

Vision greeted Bruce as if he was a close family member. Natalia properly told him how welcome he was back. And then it was Mr. Stark—Tony, looking like he'd want to disappear and at the same time never go anywhere.

"Bruce." After shaking his hand, Mr. Stark was speechless.

 _He's never this quiet,_ Wanda sent to Pietro.

 _I know,_ he answered.

Tony swallowed hard, and looked like he found it hard to speak. "Yeah," he finally managed weakly, both hands shoved in his pockets. "Good to see you."

Bruce gripped his shoulder, and Tony did the same, and the whole room seemed lighter.

JARVIS started up the jazz again, a tune that played by the bar's lit shelves. Voices started in the circle, and Pietro caught that they were inviting Bruce to at least have a drink. Someone said something, someone else laughed, and when Bruce shrugged they all cheered and wandered over to the bar, while Natalia slipped behind it to grab a glass or two.

Rhodes and Sam slipped onto the bar stools and offered greetings, and there were smiles and talking all around.

"Should we go up?" Wanda asked Pietro aloud.

"I guess," he grinned, and let her pull him along. "Why not?"

Wanda walked right up to the bar and asked Natalia for their favorite sodas, while Clint pushed a bar stool toward Pietro and insisted he sit down. Grumbling for show, Pietro obeyed. Talk was already in earnest, and several voices laughed. Pietro zeroed in on the conversation when Steve nudged Sam.

"Have you met Bruce yet?" he asked, nodding toward the man seated nearby.

That got the attention of the man with glasses, and Sam grinned.

"Maybe not." He put out his hand. "Dr. Banner. I'm Sam Wilson."

"Pleasure," replied Bruce. He looked proud and awkward with the introduction all at once. "The Falcon, right? I recognize you, from..." He circled his glass in the air vaguely.

Sam chuckled. "Thanks. I'm kind of easy to miss behind Mr. Red, White, and Blue here." He tossed his head back at Steve.

"Ha, ha." Steve gave a long-suffering smile and sipped on his drink.

"Yes!" cried Pietro when, as they say, a light-bulb went on in his mind. That got the attention of more people than he might have bargained for, but he couldn't be sorry for the audience. He was almost vibrating with glee. "Don't you see?" he asked, waving at them. "Red, white, and blue!"

Bruce turned to Sam. "This is..." he began.

"The Sokovian kid, yeah," Sam replied, not taking his eyes off of Pietro. He started to grin. "Tremble in fear."

Wanda arrived with the sodas just in time to see Pietro point at each of the three men in turn with a sweeping arm and giddy grin. "Captain America—yes?—then Uncle Sam, and the Star-Spangled—!"

"No," said Bruce.

 _ **The End**_

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 **A/N: Thanks for reading, you guys! Hey, if you liked this, help a girl out and cast a vote or two on the poll on my profile. I just want to get a feel for what my readers are interested in seeing from me in the future. You all rock. Reviews are surprise visits from friends.**


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